Stay Tuned
by xxbeyondxbirthdayxx
Summary: "Promise me Mello, if we get separated, we'll find each other no matter what." I whispered, my guitar in hand. "If I can't find you, then you'll have to become a rockstar and be on every music channel, so there's no way I don't find you." Mello replied, and I knew that behind the apparent joke, there was a promise. I didn't need to see his face to know he was dead serious.
1. Chapter 1

_**Note:** I'm baaack XD (Is anybody still here from the Death Note fandom? wave at me!)_

 _I suppose you didn't expect me here after so long, but truth is, my fics projects were bugging me, this particular idea is from 2012 I believe, and I need to write something that's not writing for a living (I love my job but I just need to relax with a story I can fuck up if I want lol)._  
 _And to the person that thought my MattxMello fandom had died, well, it's not even close to happen, sorry!_

 _No schedule so I can't say how many chapters (did I ever respect a number I gave anyway?) and when I'll update, though I'm aiming at weekly._  
 _I was first thinking of updating Lithium, I know it's not over, but I cringed when reading it again lately and I need to rewrite what's already posted before I ever think of writing further._

 _And shameless self ad: my book is on Amazon (digital) and you can ask me for the paperback version (it's available both in French and English). PM me for details._

* * *

Sixteen.

Two more years to go.

She had made a cake. My first birthday cake ever, and I was wary. She wouldn't buy me like that. I thanked her, blew the candles, and ate in silence while they babbled about my new life here. I didn't even feel concerned, but they were so caught up in their enthusiasm that they didn't even notice that I was staying silent.

I was hungry, and they let me eat as much cake as I wanted. Still not buying it.  
Then they let me free to go rest in my room.  
I went upstairs, and began to put the content of my small bag into drawers. It was probably useless, I wouldn't stay long, as usual. But she had told me to, so I did it. She had even put scented little bags in the drawers.

When I was done, I sat on my new bed, which was a little too comfortable to be true, and looked by the window. Similar houses were aligned along the whole street. Neat, clean fronts, groomed gardens, nice-looking people going about their businesses, neighbours chatting over fences, dogs, modern cars...

I wouldn't get used to it, no need to, the good stuff and me weren't from the same world, and soon I'd be out of here. It was just a matter of time.  
Two years to go, God only knew how many relocations, and I'd be legal and out of the system.  
If only... things hadn't happened... I would be out already, sixteen was freedom for us, unless we had fucked up.

And I had. Would I do it all the same way? Probably. Not that I had had a choice anyway, so better not dwell on it and take those two more years like a man.

I waited, it was barely 3pm and I had no idea what to do with myself. So I just sat there til dinner time.  
She called me and I went downstairs.

Too many smiles, and I couldn't help the sick feeling in my gut. Too chatty, too friendly, too much of everything. But I knew better than to say anything. I ate, answered politely, and excused myself as soon as I could.

Not tired. I sat there some more but grew bored. The clock ticked 9pm only, but I went to bed nonetheless, there wasn't much else I could do.

I woke up by the sound of her calling my name from the other side of the door.  
I showered and got dressed as asked, and joined them for breakfast.

I didn't know how long it would last, so as long as food was provided, I would eat.  
"You need to put some meat around those bones!" she said.  
I stopped chewing for two seconds, but her attention was somewhere else already so I decided to ignore the comment. I glanced at him but he was simply reading the newspapers, not paying attention to me.  
I resumed eating, and helped her wash the dishes afterwards.

"Why don't you take a walk and have a look around the neighbourhood?"  
"Ok." And I left, sliding the key she gave to me in my rear pocket. I wasn't surprised that they tested me, but I was that they chose this - the key to their own house - to do so. But I would pass that test easily, I wasn't about to fuck up this time. I had absolutely no plan on pushing the day I'd be free to a further date.  
But it meant one thing: they were starting strong, and I had to be careful.

That had been a very bad idea.  
Conversations over fences stopped, faces appeared behind windows. I was blending in this neighbourhood like herpes on a face.  
I couldn't blame them, I wasn't particularly pampered to begin with, my long hair was ragged, my clothes worn out, my shoes ready to fall apart, and my face... let's say I was odd to look at.  
I kept on walking until I had effectively made the whole circle around the neighbourhood, and went back to the house of my new caretakers. I was about to use my key to get inside when I heard them talk.

"Are you sure it was a good idea?" he was asking.  
"We'll see... we can't choose which kid we get anyway, so let's give this one a chance, he will get used to us, give him time."  
"Let's hope so... he's not exactly what I had imagined, that's all."  
"I know, I thought we'd be in charge of a younger kid, and not... with this past, but now it's done so we'll make do."  
"At least drive him to the mall and get him some decent clothes and shoes, he looks like a beaten stray cat."  
"That's what I had planned," she laughed.

They were now silent so I deemed it safe to enter.  
"Ah, Mihael, right on time, let's go, we need to fill those drawers of yours with something else than rags!"  
I swallowed hard, but I followed her to her car.

It was so clean inside that car, and the same scent than those little bags in my drawer filled the space. She put the music on, and sang along.  
"Sing with me Mihael!" she said joyfully, and I caved in. Playing nice, too nice, it became obvious. Subtlety wasn't apparently their thing but at least it meant they weren't going straight for it, they tried to fool me into trusting them first.

The mall. The nightmare began.  
"Don't you want a bit of color?" she asked, handing me a red tee shirt.  
I looked briefly at her and shook my head.  
"Black it is then," she sighed, and pushed me to the changing room. My eyes went wide.  
"I don't need to try them on."  
She looked at me, surprised, probably gauging my expression, that was certainly a little wild at that moment, but she retaliated and headed for the cashier.

The drive back was silent. Now, things were a bit more normal, at least my kind of normal: I had scared her and I knew how to deal with that. I didn't deal with nice very well.  
She parked in front of the house, asking me to take the bags off the trunk, and as I was doing so, I heard a guitar. I looked in the direction of the sound, it seemed to come from the house on the other side of the street.

"Mihael, come inside," she said, and I could hear in her tone that fear was gone and her enthusiasm back. Fuck.  
I complied, and went upstairs to put everything away, changing into new clothes as she requested, then coming back in the living room where she was sitting with her husband.  
"You really need to eat more to fill those new clothes," he laughed, and I scowled at him. He didn't take me seriously though, and resumed reading whatever he was reading before his wife and I arrived back here.  
She patted the couch right next to her, but I sat in an armchair, further.  
She ticked but soon she was concentrated on her TV show.

I felt really out of place in this family. I didn't even know how my 'case' had made it to such a fancy neighbourhood, such a normal family. The people that usually volunteered to host kids like me were doing it for money, which told a lot about their ways of dealing with said kids once we were placed there: they took the money, and left us barely fed or cared for. Good families were for good kids, so either they weren't as clean as they seemed to be, or they had been lied to about me. But I doubted the second option very much because of what I had heard earlier.

* * *

"It seems the Allens got a kid after all."  
"Huh?" my dad stood up, probably to look by the window with my mum.  
"They volunteered to be a host family, remember? There's a kid with Mrs Allen, they just got out of the car," my mum explained.  
"Ah, yes... but maybe it's just family, stop spying like this," he laughed, and her own laughter replied to his.  
"What is he like?" I couldn't help but ask.  
"I didn't really see, only his back, a teenager I think, long blond hair... I'm not even sure if it was a girl or a boy. But so skinny!"

I wondered briefly about this new kid, how old he or she was, and if we'd be going to the same school, but I eventually resumed playing on my guitar, knowing that my dad had probably sat at the kitchen table again, to listen, because he liked it when I played and for once he wasn't working.

I woke up early the next day. Despite the fact that it was Sunday, I could never sleep really late. I was so engrossed in learning guitar and getting better at it that my mum had threatened to lock up the instrument from 8pm to 8am so I would at least not play at hours when the neighbours could complain.  
My parents had gotten me this guitar for my fifteenth birthday in February, and I had barely been able to keep my hands off of it since. I had finally found something that got me excited, and that I could do on my own.  
I sat on my bed, already impatient to play, and practiced for a moment.

I suddenly started to feel a freezing wind coming from the open window. I stood up to close it.  
It was cold outside even for December in California, way too cold to play in the basement. I usually hung out there not to annoy my parents too much, because my dad's office being right next door to my room, he wouldn't be able to work with the music.  
Going downstairs, I asked my mum if it was okay to play in my room just today, I really wanted to finish learning this new song I was on.  
"Actually, your dad thought about that, he has a little surprise for you, but you won't know until you finish your plate sweetheart!"  
No need to say I swallowed my pancakes in less than five minutes, jumping on my feet as soon as I was done.  
"Teeth," my dad said, and I knew better than to oppose, despite my impatience, so I complied and came back as fast as possible.

Holding my dad's arm, we crossed the backyard to the little barn at the end of it. The doors creaked open, and he pushed me inside.  
I immediately noticed that the smell had changed. It used to smell of old wood, but now it smelled of varnish and brand new furniture. And it was warm inside. I didn't need more to know that he had completely revamped the barn.  
"I thought you'd like this more than the basement," my dad had a smile in his voice.  
I threw myself at him, encircling his waist and hugging him as strong as I could. He was the most awesome dad in the whole world.  
He laughed loudly, ruffling my hair.

I explored every nook and cranny, slowly, feeling the soft fabric of the couch under my fingers, the smoothness of the wooden coffee table, the shelves... It was perfect.  
"There's no electricity because the city planning doesn't allow it but I guess it's not a problem. But you do have heat, I isolated it and linked the hydrolic heating of the house to the floor."  
"So the day I fell in the grass this fall because there were holes everywhere, it wasn't moles." I laughed, happy as a king.

My mum had me help her with various things before lunch, then after we ate, I could finally inaugurate my new lair, my guitar and a few books with me. It wasn't as warm as in the house, but it was still nice with my thick hoodie on, and to be honest, it was good to have a place that, even if still on my parents' property, was a bit isolated and allowed me to be unsupervised.

I practiced until my fingers started to hurt, and my mum, probably hearing that I had stopped playing, soon showed up with a hot drink and cookies. She was the best.  
"So, I take it we won't be seeing you much from now on?" she teased me.  
"That depends on how many times you bring me cookies." I teased her back, earning myself an indignant huff and a laughter.  
"Okay, I have to think about dinner, I'll ring you when it's ready honey, but if you're cold, come back home immediately, I don't want you to catch a cold."  
"Okaaay mum." I sighed. She couldn't help but treat me like a five year old.

I wasn't allowed to go back to the barn after dinner, my parents refused that I stayed there after dark, at least during winter. I went to my room, brooding a little, but I know they were right. So I simply went over a few lessons, after all I had a test on Monday.

* * *

Music woke me up. The same guitar I had heard yesterday when coming back from the mall, it seemed. I stayed under the covers, the bed way too comfortable to move, listening. I suddenly started, realising I was slowly drifting back to sleep. Too comfortable, that wasn't good. I stood up, stirring, and noticed that there was someone in the room parallel to mine, in the house on the other side of the street. The window was slightly open, and there was someone playing the guitar, sitting on the bed. He played pretty well.

I listened for a moment, opening my own window, but he stopped and came to close his just as I did. He didn't even spare me a look although it was impossible for him not to see me. I guess I would have to get used to get that treatment from people here, I really wasn't from the same world. Jerk.

I showered, got dressed, joined the Allens for breakfast, already hating the routine after two days.  
I was supposed to start school the next day, and I was pissed.  
At least, in the center where I came from, we had lessons given at the center, we didn't have to attend a school, and before that, I had skipped school so much I can't recall doing a full year anywhere. I hated school: it was boring, and people sucked. And as my record stated, I had a problem with authority.

I heard the guitar for hours during the afternoon, and I hated that I liked it, knowing the guy playing was a moron.

Monday. School. Great.  
My new caretaker drove me, and it was lucky because taking the bus, with all the other kids. Nope. I'd rather walk.  
He tried to chat during the drive but he had at least understood by now that I wasn't a talker, so he gave up after a few minutes, and left me in front of the school while he went to the principal's office to take care of a few papers concerning me.

I wanted to be anywhere else than here, but I had promised myself that I would not fuck up, so I searched for my class, avoiding other people as much as I could, ignoring the weird looks they gave me and whispers in my back.  
I seemed to have found the right way to go when something hit my leg.  
I turned around, ready to spit venom, but I ended up face to face with the guy from the other side of the street, who was already apologizing for poking me with his... white cane?


	2. Chapter 2

_**Note:** Hey there! Missed me? XD_  
 _I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long when I had said it would be a weekly update._ _Feels good to be back to my little M &M darlings!_  
 _Enjoy!  
_

* * *

Whoever I had almost bumped into, I knew they hadn't liked it. I distinctly heard a suck of breath and an annoyed exhalation. I apologized immediately, but I got no reply. I simply heard steps fading away.  
"Can you please help me?" I asked quickly, afraid to miss my first class of the morning. The steps came to a halt, and as I thought that the person would come back to me, I just heard, from a distance: "What for?"  
I was a little taken aback by the tone, which had been a little too harsh, and I didn't recognize the voice either. Not to say that I could put a name on them all here, but it was a small place and I was pretty sure I had never heard that one.  
"So?" The voice sounded even more impatient now, probably because of the few seconds I took to ponder over a possible newcomer, and also because my brain had suddenly made the connexion between this new person and the fact that our neighbours had a new foster kid. Maybe they were the same person?  
"Sorry, I didn't want to upset you... and I don't want you to be late because of me either..."  
I was already feeling bad for taking his time, so I decided to do it by myself, even if, after being bullied once more by what we called 'the C's' here in our school, I had no idea where I was.

The C's (because they were cunts, and because their average marks were just enough so they wouldn't be expelled, and they spent their time in detention or holiday school, or wreaking havoc in corridors) had pranked me again by making me spin and pushing me in every direction enough that I couldn't recognize where I was when they were done with me.  
I would usually arrive early, my dad or mom driving me, and sit in class before the rush, but today I had been late and... this.

"Don't ask for help if you're not gonna take it."  
I had nothing to reply to that, I was totally thrown off by such a remark.  
"What's your class?" the guy asked, his voice closer, letting me know he had approached.  
"204", I said.  
"Same as mine, come on, we're gonna be la-"  
He didn't have time to finish that the bell rang. Now we really were late.

He took my free hand and curled it over his arm, guiding me. I was even more surprised now, because people usually grabbed my own arm and pulled me. And I hated when they did that, it was like being touched forcibly, and most of the time they were being too brutal anyway.

"You're late, boys." the teacher scolded us as we entered the classroom.  
"That's my fault Mrs Dayne, sorry." I immediately cleared my guide, I didn't want him to be in trouble on his first day, and hate me on top of it.  
"You must be Mihael Keehl?" she asked, as the class began to whisper in her back, "Silence!" she commanded, and all became silent again.  
"Yes." the guy I was still holding to assented. I was a little worried that he'd kept the same tone with the teacher, because it would probably get him, at best, to be put back to his place, but worse, in detention maybe.  
Mrs Dayne seemed to ignore the almost rudeness of the yes, and I took that as my cue to go to my place.

I let his arm go, and navigated the class to reach my seat. I heard him sit behind me, and it made me a little nervous. The device I used to take notes was not exactly noisy, but you could hear it a bit if you sat behind or in front of me, the rows being pretty close from each other, unlike the columns of desks. That's why I sat on the front row and that the seat behind me had always been empty.  
But he didn't utter a word during the two hours that the class lasted.

"Do you know where you're going next?" I almost started at the question.  
"Yes, 312, chemistry."  
"I meant do you know how to go there or do you need help? We're in the same class so obviously we've got the same timetable."  
His tone totally contrasted with his apparent help so I didn't really know what to think of it.  
"Yes, it's upstairs, I should manage, I just had a... little problem this morning. But thanks!"  
"'Kay." he simply replied, and I heard him walk away.

The rest of the day was pretty eventless. My fingers started to itch as soon as the last class ended, and I hurried to the entrance, eager to get in my father's car and go back home to play guitar.

My white cane poked someone obviously waiting where I was used to wait.  
"Is it gonna be a habit of yours?"  
There was no doubt as to who the voice belonged, but what threw me off this time was that it had actually been said with a humorous tone.  
"Ah, sorry, that's what it's actually for, you'd probably rather have me poke you with that than bump straight into you face first!"  
He chuckled.  
"By the way, my name's Mail. Mail Jeevas." Since I knew his name, I thought it was normal for Mihael to know mine.  
He didn't reply, and the silence was a bit awkward, so I tried to make conversation.  
"Are you waiting for someone to pick you up?"  
"I was actually checking on my phone the walk from here to home."  
"Where do you live?"  
"Right across the street from you."  
"Oh."  
"I saw you by the window yesterday when you were playing upstairs. Nice guitar skills by the way."  
"Oh... thanks!"  
I felt a little proud, to be honest, that a complete stranger complimented me. It was so much different than getting it from my parents!  
"Mail!" My father's voice resounded.  
"Do you want a ride home?" I asked Mihael.  
"I'm not sure your father will be okay with that..." his tone became suddenly unsure, and it contrasted a lot with his previous confidence.  
"I'll ask him." Why would my father mind?

I walked the short distance to my dad's car.  
"It's our new neighbour, dad, can we give him a lift? He wanted to walk home..."  
"Okay."  
"Come, Mihael!" I invited him, before sitting on the passenger's seat next to my dad.  
"Hello Mr Jeevas." Mihael said as he sat on the back seat and closed the door.  
"Hello Mihael." my father replied before driving away.

The drive was silent, minus the radio in the car, but after hearing Mihael's reserve, and the way my father had replied, not annoyed, but still a bit off, something bugged me. There was something going on and I obviously needed to have my sight to know what, since I seemed to be the only one not getting it.

When we arrived in front of our house, Mihael thanked my father before exiting the car, and left quite fast, as I heard him say to me "See you tomorrow!" from across the street.  
I went inside and sat at the kitchen table for a quick snack, my father sitting for coffee next to me.

"What's he like?" I asked. I already knew he had long blond hair, from my mom's comment when she had spotted him by the window, but not much more, except that he was skinny.  
"Who?" my mum questionned.  
"The foster kid, we drove him home." my dad answered.  
"Oh, is he going to your school?"  
"Yes, we're in the same class even." I didn't mention the morning bullying that had led to us meeting, I didn't want my parents to worry more than they already did, "His name's Mihael Keehl."  
"Be careful with him Mail, you don't know anything about him, and foster kids sometimes have a heavy past and unpredictable actions."  
My dad really had something against him, now it was obvious.  
"He was nice to me, I won't judge him because of a past I don't know anything about." I brooded a little.

Most people at school were nice to me, except the C's, but no one really talked to me. Because of my condition, and since I never took the bus or ate at the school cafeteria, I didn't really mingle. Not that I didn't want to, it was because of the school's policy: they seemed to be so afraid that I got hurt and my parents decided to file a complaint against them for it that they monitored my presence inside the school as if I was made of China. Except for the C's. No one ever seemed to notice when I was being bullied, suddenly there was no one around, no one ever witnessed anything.  
And I'd rather die than ask for help or report them. It would only make things worse, because they would never be evicted, their parents were among the biggest donors for the school and the city so the school would never risk losing the money.  
It wasn't really dangerous for me, they pushed me around, made fun of me, stole my stuff sometimes, and other little pranks, but not to the point of hurting me, so I guess I couldn't really complain, they were just acting like stupid little brats.

"That's not what I meant... just be careful, that's all." my dad sighed.  
"So, what is he like?" my mum finally asked, pushing my father for me a bit since she already knew a few details of his appearance.  
The way my father replied, I knew he was probably rolling his eyes: "He's a little taller than Mail, skinny, ragged shoulder length blond hair... blue eyes, and... well, he's got a pretty big scar eating half his face."  
"Oh..." I tried to picture it, wondering what it could look like.  
I wasn't born blind so I still had memories of everything, but it was hard for me to imagine something I had never seen before. I mean, I had seen scars of course, but only small ones, so something big enough to cover half a face...

Once my snack was swallowed, I fetched my guitar upstairs and went to my little den, not without my mum smothering me with motherly recommendations.  
As I played, I suddenly wondered if Mihael was listening... My thoughts took a tangent and I found myself thinking about his scar. Did it hurt? How did he get it? Was it hard to live with it? I guess that was why everyone had started to whisper in class when he had showed up...

That night, I had the weirdest dream.  
Mihael had come, for a reason my mind didn't care to include in the dream, in my barn, and as he was sitting next to me, I touched his face, where the scar was. In reality I had no idea which side it was but it didn't matter.  
When I woke up, I didn't remember how it had felt like under my fingers, but I was a little worried that I was thinking about Mihael way too much since I had met him.  
I put that on the account of novelty, and got ready for school.

I briefly wondered if Mihael would like a ride to school as my mother got the car out of the garage, but I was way too shy to go to his house and ask.  
"Sweetheart, wait for me here, I'll go ask the Allens if your new friend wants a ride to school."  
"He's not my..." Oh, crap, it was useless anyway. My dad was very wary of Mihael and my mum thought we were friends already, my parents were crazy.

I waited patiently until she came back.  
"He left already, apparently he asked to walk to school." she informed me before we drove away.  
The walk was at least 30 minutes, and I wondered why he was so keen on walking.

I was late for the exact same reason as the day before: they had decided to cut trees lining the road and we had to circle around a block instead of going right through. They were supposed to have finished yesterday so we hadn't planned to leave earlier, and I was already feeling a knot forming in my stomach.  
"Have a good day honey!" The cheerful voice of my mother didn't make my anxiety better as I passed the school's gate, ready to be welcomed by the C's.

"Hey White Cane! Late again? Too bad huh?"  
I gritted my teeth, knowing all too well what was coming.  
Another voice started to call out to me with a mocking tone, and they began to push me around. I tried not to fall as they pulled on my schoolbag, but I suddenly felt someone rummage into it.  
"Please, stop it!" I managed to turn around to get my bag as far away as possible from the one digging into it, but I heard everything fall out of it. Great.  
They were all laughing really hard, and I was so angry.  
Angry because I coudn't defend myself, because I felt like I didn't belong here, because no one was helping me (and I knew that there were a LOT of people around at this hour), angry because they attacked me because I was blind.  
It was just a game to them, just as they had said the day a teacher had actually confronted them to the principal. This teacher replaced a regular while she was on maternity leave, and I guess he didn't know the rule here not to cross the parents that gave the more to the school. A week later, he was gone and someone else taught us until our regular teacher came back.

I tried to gather my things as they left, still laughing, holding back my tears and hoping they hadn't stolen anything.  
I knew it wasn't that bad, I knew I wasn't the only one being teased, but I was so tired of it. It was probably easier to deal with it when you could actually see what was happening.

They didn't go far though, as I heard them pick on someone else. I straightened up, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.  
"Hey, monster face! Go back to the zoo!"  
Mihael. Of course they would bully him too, his scar was probably too good of an occasion.  
"What? It's not the zoo here? I thought I was home, seeing your stupid monkey face."  
Oh shit.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Note:** I'm laaate I know! But I finally decided I was happy with chapter 2, and so I could continue this fic. I reworked what was already written for chapter 3 and added a lot, so the chapter is longer than expected and so I cut it where I cut it._  
 _Thank you for still reading me, I'm truly nostalgic of the good old days of the fandom...  
Don't assume that the whole plot and characters' depth are in this chapter, I'm still only building the foundations of the story!_

 _Edit: I don't know when this story will be updated again, I'm working on original fiction more than usual because goals etc so it doesn't leave much time for fanfiction, sorry..._

* * *

Was she the one being blind or what?  
When the teacher scolded us, I wondered what between me being new or the guy I was playing dog guide for didn't allow room to speculate we had a good reason for being late.  
Her eyes widened a little at my reply but she ignored my tone. I know I wasn't supposed to get in trouble but people unable to think at least a bit got pretty quickly on my nerves.  
The guy went to his seat, and I did the same, taking the only free desk available.

The class was boring as hell, I already knew all of that, so I just let my mind wander for two hours.  
When the bell rang, I thought I'd better ask the blind guy if he needed help if I wanted to gain time instead of waiting for him to beg. The explanation he gave me for being lost this morning didn't make sense since he obviously knew his way around, but oh well...  
I walked to the next class directly, ignoring recess, and stood by the window since I didn't know which seat was available, waiting for the next lesson to start. To my surprise, the blind guy had the same plan as I saw him sit a few seconds later. He probably didn't hear me there so he conveniently didn't try to talk to me. But it seemed that, after recess ended and everyone came in, that my designated seat would always be behind him.

I ate quickly at lunch, trying to spend as little time as possible in the cafeteria, since I wasn't keen on being observed. Apparently, being raised in a cosy neighborhood hadn't taught them manners, as they blatantly stared at my scar. I get it that it's hard not to see it, and probably something no one ever saw before, but damn, stop looking at me with disgust! It's not as if I wanted it there to begin with, I didn't really have a say in it...

The afternoon was as boring as the morning, and I was glad when it came to and end. I exited the building and found a calm spot right outside the gate to check Google Maps on my phone, because there was no way I'd take the bus home. Well... not that I'd considered this house my home though.  
They had given me a phone with one of those blocked packages, in case of emergency, it was actually the first cell phone I had ever owned. They tried hard to be nice, but I'd never fall for it.

As I was doing so, my leg got poked again. I didn't even get mad, I perfectly knew he wasn't doing this on purpose. But as his face turned into a worried expression, more worried than the situation required even, I tried my best at alleviating his concern.  
"Is it gonna be a habit of yours?" I said, my tone amused.  
He seemed to lighten up at my words and replied with an equally joyful tone, although I could say he was still on his guards. In his defense, I hadn't been particularly nice this morning, and I was one hundred per cent sure he had recognized my voice.  
He introduced himself, and that was it, or so I thought, because he tried to make conversation.  
I replied to his questions, I had no reason to be rude again (not that I had one this morning but the constant staring at my scar was turning me into a ball of nerves).  
I don't even know why I complimented him. I was being sincere but fuck, I didn't do compliments. But the way he smiled, I guess it was worth it.

Someone called him, and I saw an older guy in a car, scowling at me through his windshield.  
When Mail offered to ask his father to give me a lift, I was pretty sure the guy wouldn't be pleased at all. But he accepted and I didn't want to make a fuss so I sat in the car and stayed polite.  
I slid off the car as we arrived and said goodbye quickly before disappearing. Mail's father had glanced at me a hundred times in the rearview mirror and I was positive he hated me, or at least he hated me near his son. I wasn't even mad, I wouldn't want me near anyone. Trouble was written all over me, and I, myself, had no idea how I'd react in a given situation. No matter how much I didn't want to fuck up this time, I knew myself well enough to know I couldn't trust my self control.

I isolated in my room before dinner, and heard Mail play. He really was good. I even recognized a song.  
It almost lulled me to sleep and I started when Mrs Allen called me downstairs a moment later.

I woke up early enough so I could walk to school the next day. It took me a little longer than I thought, but I was just on time. As I crossed the gate, I saw three guys tormenting the blind guy. How courageous. No one even reacted, which shocked me even more than the bullying. They were all staring and letting it happen, and just went back to normal when the three dicks were over with their prey. And then...

"Hey monster face! Go back to the zoo!"

Aside from the astonishing creativity of the insult, I realized that the guy that had mocked me obviously thought he would get away with it just as he did with Mail. I could already feel anger rise in me, because if he believed I would let it slide, then I'd show him I was, contrary to Mail, in possession of all my senses, and two fists ready to knock his teeth out.  
But since he had no will for this to go further, he was already turning his back on me, laughing with his friends that were heading toward the building.

I wouldn't let this pass, though, and replied. He didn't like it one bit, which was the purpose I intended my words for. But worse for him, people around started to laugh. He cast them a dark look that had the merit to shut them up, but they kept on watching what was going to happen.  
Nothing, to my displeasure, as the bell rang. I knew deep down that it was the best option for me not to get in trouble, but fuck it, I'd have my revenge somehow. I wanted a fight so badly I'd get it no matter what, first because shitheads like him deserved to be beaten for picking on a blind guy, and also so he got to know me so he wouldn't dare talk to me that way again.

I crossed the distance between me and Mail, picked up the rest of his belongings from the ground as he was unsuccessfully trying to gather them, offered him an arm and led him to class. I could tell he was holding back tears of anger, the expression on his face, and the grip he had on my arm, stronger than necessary, were good indicators of what he was feeling. I didn't say a word, for fear of him breaking down in tears. He had lost enough dignity for today.

As I had noticed they sold sandwiches at the cafeteria, I had opted for this as lunch came, and headed for the small park behind school, far from the agitation, once my food purchased. I spotted Mail eating alone, a few students here and there and a supervisor a bit further on another bench.

I walked to Mail, since I had something I wanted to ask after witnessing what had happened this morning.  
"Can I sit?" I kept my voice low, trying not to spook him.  
"Yes, come on!" he replied, a big smile spreading on his face as he slid a bit to the right so I could take the spot to his left.  
We ate in silence for a while, but I finally broke the silence.  
"Did the same happen yesterday morning?"  
I didn't need to be more precise for him to pick up.  
"Yeah... they pushed me around and I couldn't find my way anymore because I was disoriented..." he mumbled.  
So it was a habit... bastards.  
"But you know, it's not that bad, I guess..." he said after a moment, and to be honest, I wasn't even surprised by his resignation. I knew it from the moment he had smiled to be when I had sat next to him, I knew it from his overall attitude. I just knew it. Saw it too much before.  
"Yes it is bad, they do it because they see you as weaker, and I'm positive about the fact that they feel protected somehow." My tone was angrier than I intended it to be and he noticed.  
"They apparently see you as weaker too..." Mail replied, and the way he tried to hurt me back told me I had said something hurtful. He did have pride, which told me he was not a lost cause after all.  
"I didn't say you are weak, just that they see you that way."  
"Sorry... I'm just so tired of this... but let it slide, it won't do any good if you try to stop it. Just ignore him if he calls you names, that's all."  
"It sure won't do any good to him if I stop him." I chuckled.  
Mail couldn't help but laugh as well, but I could tell he was worried that I'd do something.  
"Please, just forget it okay, I'm not a damsel in distress and it's useless anyway, you're right, they're protected, so whatever happens, you or I will always be wrong."  
He explained that the parents were the main donors for school, and I got a better grasp of how things worked here. I guess I'd be the grain of sand in the machine... it was beyond my strength to not do something.

We walked back to the building for the first class of the afternoon, but when classes were over, I sped up outside, not waiting for Mail, just so he wouldn't offer me a ride home.  
Later, as I was stitting on my bed, I heard him play once more.

I was annoyed that I had been able to talk to him that way, and so much. It was not a big deal, this conversation, but still, I wasn't a talker, and I wasn't a knight either, what had gone through me?  
I hope he wouldn't imagine we were friends or something, I didn't need a friend. I just needed peace.  
But... I couldn't go back and erase that, so I guess I'd have to put a bit of distance between him and me.

* * *

Shit. I shouldn't have said what I had said the other day. I could tell he wasn't one to let things go, he seemed to be a pretty agressive guy, and saying they saw him as weaker too had probably been the line not to cross, because he had avoided me the last three days. At first I thought that he wasn't there at all, but since teachers asked him questions in class sometimes, I could tell he was mad at me.  
I didn't know how to apologize since I would have a hard time finding him to talk to him...  
For once someone was willing to talk to me and... this. Shit.

As I exited the school's courtyard, my hand following the metal of the portal until I reached my usual waiting spot, I heard my father's voice. He was talking to someone. It was unusual since he would wait for me in his car, but the voice came from a direction that told me he was out of the vehicle since he couldn't park where he was right now.  
I was a little confused so I just waited there for him to spot me, he wasn't far anyway.

"What exactly do you think I'm going to do to him?"  
Mihael's voice. I immediately figured out what they were talking about. Me.  
"I have no trust in you, I'm not accusing you of anything, but I don't want you around him. You know of his condition, he can't defend himself, and it's easy to take advantage of him, so better be safe than sorry: stay away from him."  
"DAD!"  
My voice barely covered the angry reply my father got from Mihael.  
"Judge me if you want, I don't care, but judging your own son the way you do? No wonder why he can't defend himself when he's being bullied, you're treating him like a fragile little thing!"  
Shit. He had said too much.  
My blood was boiling.  
"What do you mean, he's being bullied?"  
"STOP IT, YOU TWO!" I screamed, my cane falling to the floor, my fists in balls at my sides.

I could hear silence, then a few muffled giggles. I suddenly felt tears of anger sting my eyes. I didn't want to cry, not here, not in front of everyone.  
My dad picked up my cane, took my hand and led me to the car.  
"Mihael, come with us, I need to talk to you." I said, not even knowing if he was still around.  
"No way. I'll meet you at home in half an hour." he replied, and we drove away.

"Why?" I angrily spat at my father. It was unusual for me to talk to him like that, but I was so mad at him! I was over being treated like a five year old.  
"You have no idea what he's capable of. And lower your tone young man." My dad was tense.  
"As far as I know, he's capable of caring for me when no one in this stupid school does anything to help me."  
I regretted my words as soon as they were out. If I had thought about my father forgetting Mihael's about the bullying, now it was obviously not happening.  
"Who is bullying you at school?" he asked.  
"No one."  
"Not with me, Mail."  
"No. One. Stop treating me like a child, stop judging people, just stop it, okay? I can deal with things by myself and I'll go to school and back home by myself from now on."  
I just couldn't keep on having my dad around school anymore, it had gone too far, my situation there was already difficult without everyone seeing him babysit me.  
My father didn't reply, which told me he wasn't done with all of this. It made me anxious.

It would be a moment before Mihael would be home since he was walking, so I asked my mum to tell me when she would see him in the street. Of course she noticed something was off, and I couldn't avoid the conversation that ensued. Shit, I was so over this...  
"Mail, try to understand your father, we know nothing about Mihael, except that he's a foster kid with a complicated past, it's normal to be careful..."  
"That's right, you know nothing about him, so why do you assume he's a bad guy?"  
"It's not like that... Mail, it's... just be careful, he might be a good kid but you don't know yet."  
I sighed. I could understand their concern with me being blind and all, but I still wanted to have a say in this.  
"Did you have to humiliate me, and him as well, in front of the whole school?" I clearly addressed my father.  
"It wasn't on purpose, I just saw him walk past my car and wanted to talk to him briefly."  
"And how do you think he felt, having someone tell him straight out of nowhere that he's not trusted when he did absolutely nothing wrong?"  
Silence. I knew I had struck the right chord.

"Mihael is home." my mum said.  
"Dad, you're coming with me." I said, standing from my chair.  
"Why, Mail?" my mum asked, surprised.  
"Dad, you're apologizing to Mihael. I'll never forgive you if you don't."  
"Mail, what is going on with you?", he replied, standing as well, his tone severe, "Quit it with this attitude or you can say goodbye to your guitar, is that clear?"  
"Then lock it, I don't care, lock everything, lock me in, even, maybe you'll be finally happy that nothing can happen to me!" I exploded, "I never thought you could be so judgemental to someone different, your own son is different, remember?! I'm sick of not being able to do things by myself because you or mum are scared that something happens to me, I'm blind, not stupid, not disabled, just blind!"  
"Mail, honey, calm down, we never meant to make you feel bad about this..."  
"I get it, parents get worried, but you're pushing it too far! He did absolutely nothing to deserve the treatment you gave him! I get this everyday! I know how he feels, and of all people, you had to be the ones doing that to him? My own parents?"  
I was crying for good this time.  
"Mail, what are you talking about?" my mum started, but there was no way the bullying I got at school came up for discussion now. Even if I was the one to bring it up again.  
"Yes, I get bullied sometimes because I'm blind, and no, I don't want to talk about it, I don't want you to do anything about it, and for once, respect my decision!"  
"Mail, calm down, it's okay, calm down," my dad said, pulling me into his arms, "Just let us know if you need help with anything happening at school, but we won't intervene, I promise."  
I was relieved at least about the fact that they wouldn't interfere at school, I knew that my dad didn't make empty promises. About Mihael... that was another subject.  
"Let's go see Mihael now." my dad said, letting go of me, sighing. He wasn't thrilled but I think he had finally understood my point of view.

I dried my tears as we exited the house. We crossed the street and rang the Allen's door.  
"Mr Jeevas! Mail! What's bringing you here?" the ever joyful voice of Mrs Allen resounded as the door opened.  
"Is Mihael at home?" I asked, "I wanted to ask him about a lesson we had today." I said, not wanting to raise suspicions.  
"Of course, do you want to come in?" she invited me to enter.  
"I thought we could go to the barn behind my house, so we won't bother you." I didn't want to have to talk to him where someone could hear us, and my dad still needed to apologize anyway.  
"Oh, nice! I'm glad he's made a friend already! Mihael, Mail is here for you!" she called him.  
"Thank you."  
His voice, then the door closing, told me Mrs Allen was out of the way.  
"Let's go to my place." I told him, and we crossed the street again.

Once we reached my parents' garden, we stopped.  
"Mihael, I'm sorry for what I said earlier, I shouldn't have judged you the way I did, so please accept my apologies."  
Mihael didn't reply immediately, which told me he was quite surprised.  
"No worries," he finally replied, "I'm used to it." he whispered.  
It pained me... it really did imprint itself deep into me, the way his voice softened on the last words.  
I realised at that moment the way he felt when hearing me giving in to my bullies...


End file.
